Haim's debut 'Days Are Gone' is streaming over at NPR! As you can imagine, it's pretty awesome. http://smarturl.it/HAIMDaysStream
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"The Wire," the single they released this summer, is a good example of how the album grew up with them. It was originally written back in 2008. The sisters rerecorded it every year since then, sometimes three times a year, until they got it right.
"It's kind of a hard song to record because it's basically all major and it's a shuffle," Danielle explains. "It turned into maybe something too sweet sometimes, or kind of too sugar — I don't know. Every time we did it, there was an issue with it."
Eventually they figured out the right combination of sample beats and live percussion.
Hearing the album version was gratifying not only because it had been a tricky one to get right, Alana says, but " 'cause there was also kind of fear that we would never really be proud of it."
Turns out they shouldn't have worried. When it was released earlier this summer, "The Wire" exploded online, raising Days Are Gone's buzz. Not that they've had time to notice.
"Did it explode?" Alana asks, genuinely surprised. In fact, its success helped the band sell out Webster Hall the night before.
Backstage, the Haim sisters will happily reminisce about their days growing up in the Valley, working at Wasteland (Este), Crossroads Trading Company (Alana) or American Rag (Danielle), and cramming, with 47 of their closest friends, into a Palm Springs hotel room for Coachella.
It's clear when they take the stage — even a small, studio stage like the one at WNYC — that those days are gone. Any trace of naivete evaporates as they launch into a searing rendition of "Falling," from the new album.
Out there the soft-spoken middle sister, Danielle — who tends to hang back in interviews, ceding the floor to her sisters — commands the spotlight. But they perform as a unit, lost in a kind of hypnotizing psychic sync.
Their entourage, looking on from backstage, is their old Rockinhaim bandmates: Mama and Papa Haim. While the band performs, their mother whips out a bejeweled phone and flips through pictures of the previous night's show, pausing on one of their father out in front of Webster Hall, beaming proudly, pointing at their name up on the marquee.
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